The Dice Is Cast
by Retrodelic
Summary: On the 12th of October Queen Jane gives birth to a child. Not to a son that the whole kingdom has predicted, but to a daughter. AU.
1. Chapter 1 A daughter born

**Title:** The Dice Is Cast

**Summary:** On the 12th of October Queen Jane gives birth to a child. Not to a son that the whole kingdom has predicted, but to a daughter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that is presented in this story, only my own imagination.

**Author's note:** There are stories out there that are about what if Anne Boleyn hadn't miscarried in 1536 and what if Arthur hadn't died at the age of 15. So then I started thinking about what if Jane Seymour had given birth to a daughter instead of a son. What would have happened?

**Author's note II:** English is not my first language, so please have pity on me if you find some errors. It was not done intentionally.

**Author's note III:** And yes, I know that the name of Katherine's mother was Isabella, but I anglicized it.

* * *

**Chapter 1 – A daughter born**

* * *

**12th October 1537**

King Henry VIII sat tensely in his bedchamber all alone. For twelve hours he had waited for the declaration that would change his life and all of people's lives in England. The declaration that he now had a legitimate son. A son!

The heir to his kingdom and the joy of his life. The son that his true wife would give birth to. His only legitimate son that he soon would hold in his arms!

"If Jane only could hurry", he whispered to himself, "and give me our son".

Finally a son that he would be his, legitimately, and the future King of England. He would name the boy Edward, the name that he had held on to for years for his first son.

The boy that his first untrue wife Katherine had given him, Henry, had only lived for 52 days. Yes, he had mourned for days after he had got the news of his son's death, but now he knew that it was the right thing that happened. After all, God works for those who wait for him.

And had he not waited and waited for a living son, as a rightful Christian? He had and now God would shortly award him with a son that would live a long life.

* * *

For two hours no sound had come from the Queen's bedchamber. Since no cries from a child had been heard and with the fact that Queen Jane had no strength left to push, it was greatly alarming.

Jane leaned motionless against her pillows with her eyes closed. Her fair hair lay in lifeless locks around her sweaty face.

"I do not think she can manage much longer", the midwife said to the lady standing next to her.

Lady Jane Rochford nodded and silently went to the Queen's side. She grasped one of the Queen's hands in her own and pressed the other hand against her pale and sweaty face.

"Your Grace, if you want your son to be born healthy and strong you need to push!"

Jane slowly opened her eyes and looked at her.

At first she couldn't place the face with a name, but then she remembered who the woman was. Lady Jane Rochford, the widow of George Boleyn. The George Boleyn who had been the brother of Anne Boleyn, who had been Queen of England before she was beheaded.

It was known all across England that Lady Rochford had been the one who had betrayed her husband and testified against him, which had got him executed.

"Why? I know what you have done! Keep your hands away from me!" she said and released her hand. A moment later when the tearing pain rushed through her body, she cried out and took Lady Rochford's hand again.

"Do not fear, Jane", said Lady Rochford calmly, "I will not leave you until you have your son in your arms".

Jane nodded, drew upon all her strength and started pushing again.

* * *

Elizabeth slept quietly in her bed, with Mary sitting by her side. The two sisters had sat together for several hours waiting for the news of the birth of their new brother.

The brother that would push them both even farer away from the throne.

Even though it was late and she was tired, Mary could not sleep. She was thinking of her mother and how everything had changed after the whore Anne Boleyn had come in their way.

She thought about her life would have been if her father, the King, had not deserted her mother. She would have been the heir to the throne, even though she was a woman.

Maybe she would have had a husband and children. How her life would have been full of joy! The life that she still wanted so much.

But God has decided otherwise and had put more obstacles in her way to the throne that belonged to her. If she handled everything the right way, everything would turn into her advantage.

But how would she handle the news that her father now had a son, a male heir?

"He could die", she said quietly. It was a possibility, yes.

The sisters both wanted Queen Jane to give birth to a girl. Elizabeth wanted a sister since she was a little girl and wanted a playmate, Mary wanted one since a girl was easily cast aside by her father who wanted no more daughters.

_Please God, let it be a girl._

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock._

"Your Majesty, may I come in?"

"Yes, come in!"

Henry stood up and watched one of his men open the door and bow for him. The man didn't look up to his King's eyes, instead he stared at the floor.

"You have news?"

"Yes, the Queen just gave birth to your child, Your Grace", he said as fast as he could while still looking at the floor.

Henry flung the door open and started walking towards his wife's bedchamber. He was halfway there when someone grabbed his arm and made him stop.

"What is it?", he yelled and released his arm from the man's grip. This man will be working in the stable with the horses tomorrow, he thought.

"Your Grace should know that the child is… ", the man said and then went quiet. He looked unsure of himself, as if he did not know how to inform the King of the unpleasant news.

"Is there something wrong with the boy? Is he dead?"

"No, Your Grace. Queen Jane just gave birth do a healthy and beautiful girl", said the man. He bowed and then walked away.

Henry was left alone with one thought running through his head.

_No son… He had no son._

* * *

The room was dark, the candles had run out long ago. But the two people in the room did not need any light.

Jane sat in her bed, holding her daughter in her arms.

_Katherine._ Jane did have the right to name her own daughter, but she was not bold enough to suggest the name Katherine. Katherine, after her most beloved Queen that had died the year before.

No, she could not name the child after Katherine, but she could name her after Katherine's mother. The mother that she had loved so much and that she had missed even more after her death.

During the time that Katherine was Queen of England and Jane was one of her ladies-in-waiting, she had often talked about her mother that had been the glorious Queen of Spain.

My daughter, she thought.

_Isabel._


	2. Chapter 2 In the eyes of God

**Author's note: **The christening actually took place at Hampton Court but I changed that and some other details. I know that most people don't really like Jane but I've always felt quite sorry for her. So I've tried to make Jane more likable! And thank you for the reviews, I love reviews. :D

**Author's note II: **Just so you know, everything that happened in this chapter will play a big part later on.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything that is presented in this story, only my own imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 2 – In the eyes of God**

**15****th**** October 1537**

The candles were lit and had been placed all over the church where the christening took place. It had been cleaned for days before it had been declared suited for the arrival of several Kings and Queens throughout Europe. But that was before everyone knew that the Queen had given birth to a princess, instead of a prince. Several Kings had quickly received information that could not be ignored, so they had to turn down, even though they had already said yes. Everyone knew why, even King Henry knew why. It was because they did not see it as an obligation to attend the christening of a princess. It wasn't important.

The King had sat quietly in his chair during the whole christening. He made no sound and no movement. He only sat there, staring at something that no one else could see. Maybe it was a future with a male heir. The heir that the King had dreamt of for years and had waited and waited for. _Edward. _But there was no Edward! Only a newborn princess. Henry who had been so sure of himself and of the fact that his wife, Queen Jane, would give birth to a boy that after his death would be King of England in all of its glory. But no, now he had three useless daughters! Mary, Elizabeth and Isabel. The best that Mary and Elizabeth could hope for was a marriage to an Earl or a Viscount. Yes indeed, that was what Henry's two illegitimate daughters could hope for. But Isabel would marry a King, which was expected of a princess.

Queen Jane also sat quietly in the chair next to her husband. But she was not gloomy as Henry, no she was just tired after the birth of her daughter that had taken so long time and that had taken all of her strength. She had known as a child that the birth was always hard for the mother. But she had not known that it would be that hard! There was always a great chance of not surviving the birth. But as it was, after every struggle there was a prize. The prize had been her Isabel, her most precious daughter. Had she not loved her daughter as much as she did, she would have been scared of what Henry would do against her for not giving him a son. Yes, she would have been petrified! She did not know everything about Henry, but she did know that he was capable of anything.

Since no one had prepared clothes for a newborn daughter, they did not have any proper clothes worthy of a princess. So it was decided that the princess would be given the old clothes of her two older half-sisters. The clothes that been sewn for a boy long time ago, was laid once again in the chest that would be opened again when the Queen gave birth to a boy. The chest had been opened several times before during the King's rule and after each time it had been closed shortly after.

Mary held Isabel tightly in her arms. She was after all, the child's godmother and since she was a girl Mary did not think ill of her. Had the child been a boy, she would have thought differently. Even thought Isabel was only a couple of days old, anyone could see the resemblance between mother and daughter. The short hair on her head was fair and her eyes had the same colour as her mother. Even though she looked so much like her mother, one could still see that she had inherited some traits from her father as well. She was a big child for her age and would be one of the tallest ladies at the court when she grew up.

But all babies are fragile, it was common knowledge that they could die in their sleep, even a child that was of Royal descent. If Isabel had been a boy, Mary knew that she would have schemed for his death.

She looked down at her sister's face. Isabel opened her eyes and looked into Mary's eyes. She frowned and slowly started to cry. It was as if she could hear Mary's thoughts.

Archbishop Thomas Cranmer took Isabel from Mary's arms. He held her over the baptismal font and slowly poured some water over her head, while saying the holy words, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit".

Edward Seymour watched from a distance the christening of his niece. A smile was stuck on his face and had been for several minutes. He had to look pleased for the people, like if all of his lying and deceiving had been for a _girl_. But sons would follow. _There had to be sons._

Everything he had done for Jane was for the benefit of the Seymour family. It had nothing to do with her or her happiness. She was a woman, she was only good for bearing children and as a toy for men. Certainly, it was a good thing that she had given birth to a healthy and strong child, even though it was a daughter. Jane was young and she had proven that she was a fertile woman.

Edward knew to some extent how Henry's two previous wives had suffered, they had done nearly everything just to give birth to a living son. But God had denied their wish since both marriages had been invalid.

With the knowledge of what had happened to the two women, Edward knew that Jane had to become pregnant again and it had to be soon. He was certain that it would happen, since Jane's marriage to Henry was valid. Valid in the eyes of God. That was after all, what was most important.

Elizabeth sat far away from her family, at the back area of the church. At first she had watched everything with curious eyes but after a while it had become boring. Her father was cranky so she knew that she was not allowed to bother him. She was four years old and she had known for months how to behave when her father was angry, happy or cranky. She only had to observe her older sister and watch what she did to please their father.

The doll that Elizabeth held in her arms was one of her oldest. It had two black buttons as eyes and dark threads sewn to the head. She called it _Annie, _after the woman that she still remembered so well and longed for. Many had said to her that it was not suitable for a four-year old to have a doll, at least not for a King's daughter. But it was not so that she needed the doll, no. She needed to have something with her that her mother had given to her before her death. Everything else that Anne had given her, had been taken away.

Elizabeth looked up towards the big cross that hung in the centre of the church. She stared at Jesus who had been crucified for his beliefs and died. She smiled and thought how unfair the world was. Jesus had not been a sinner and everyone said that when he died, he came to heaven. But when her Mama died, she came to hell since she had been a sinner. But Elizabeth knew better, she knew that Mama was waiting for her in heaven. She hugged the doll closer to her body and closed her eyes.

_I miss you, Mama._

* * *

The christening had been dull and had taken too much time. Those were the thoughts of Henry, while he and Jane blessed their newborn daughter once more in the name of God, the Virgin Mary and St. George. Soon this charade would be over and he could return to his bedchambers to mourn the end of the future that he had dreamt of. He was 46 years old and yet, had no son. Was he a man? Is a man really a man if he does not have any sons?

All the guests listened to their blessings in the Great Hall at Hampton Court. Food was then provided for the entire company, music was played by talented musicians and the ladies danced with the men. Henry had left, so Jane was left alone with her ladies-in-waiting and Henry's men.

"It saddens me so that Thomas could not be here, brother", Jane said and embraced her eldest brother. Edward patted his sister's hair and then took a step back. He was handsome, his blue eyes and dark hair had made him popular with women and even with some men. Not that he ever would engage in such thing, he was a devoted Christian after all.

"Oh, yes! It is always about Thomas, is it not?" he asked and turned his face away. It was no secret that Edward always had been jealous of his younger and handsomer brother. But as the years flew by, the jealousy became an even greater problem.

"Forgive me then brother", she said and took one of his hands in her both smaller ones. She did not want her brother to be cross at her, not at a time like this. "I only thought that you would not be in the mood to discuss what happened between that whore Catherine and Papa." Everyone knew that Catherine and John Seymour had had an affair behind their spouses' backs. But what was most disturbing was the fact that Catherine had given birth to several children during her marriage to Edward and no one knew if they were his or his father's. He had raised them as his children, when there was a great possibility that they were his siblings.

_Poor Edward, _she thought_._

Edward did not answer, instead he led her to the center of the room where the others laughed and danced together. "Your Grace, you are the fairest of them all in this kingdom, I would be honored if you would dance with me".

Jane smiled and obliged.

* * *

Later that same day Jane lay alone in the marital bed. The bed was one of a kind, the only bed in the country which was fit for the King and Queen of England. Sheets trimmed with golden threads, rich draperies and pillows made of the finest material there was. One could never believe that the two people who slept in the bed were nothing but happy.

The quilt that had placed over the bed had been a wedding present from Mary and Elizabeth. When they gave it to Jane, they told her that it had taken them several weeks to finish it. Jane did not have to ask, she already knew that it was Mary who had worked on the quilt. Elizabeth had after all been mourning her mother Anne Boleyn who had been executed some weeks prior to the wedding between Henry and Jane.

Someone knocked five times on the door.

Jane turned in the bed and stared at the door. No one knocked five times on that door except …

Henry opened the door and entered. He had a big stomach, grey eyes and auburn hair that was rapidly graying. He cast one look at his young wife before he threw his robe off and climbed into bed.

"Oh Jane," he said and touched her hair. Jane knew immediately what he wanted.

"No Henry, please. I am tired and I am still sore", she said and turned away from him. All he could see of her was her back and fair hair. He gripped her hair in one of his hands and pulled it towards him.

"I am your King and master! I command you to give me a son!"

"But I am your wife!"

"Yes, some wife you are", he said sulkily and released her hair. He then rubbed his hands over his face.

_He does not want me. He wants her._

"But I am the Queen," she whispered hoarsely and pulled the sheets up so they covered her completely.

"You are a Queen that must give me a son!"

Henry was tired of this bizarre game, so he pulled away the sheets that were covering his wife's body before he looked at her again.

"Blow out the candle and come to me."

She blew out the candle.

* * *

**3****rd**** November 1537**

The Queen's rooms were bright and full of space. Not many books could be seen and there were hardly any furniture. Even though the Queen had the money to refurnish her rooms, she did not want to spend any money on such a wasted thing. Instead she used the money that was offered to her to buy clothes, books and toys to her two stepdaughters and her own little daughter. During her own childhood she had been very close to the people around her and now, when she was given the money to show how much she loved her family, she took the opportunity.

No music was played, instead one of the ladies-in-waiting read out aloud from the Bible. Everyone knew that the Queen did not like music and that she preferred to have someone read the Bible out loud for her, since she could not read nothing except her own name.

The other ladies-in-waiting sat around the Queen and sewed together. With each day Christmas came closer and it had been so for years that the Queen and her ladies sewed shirts and other clothes for the poor. They sewed for hours each day and worked as fast as they could.

Mary sat next to Jane so she could not help but notice that she seemed to be very distracted.

"How are you feeling, Your Highness?" Mary asked. She was nervous since Jane had a small bruise covering her left cheek. It was no secret that the King had been violent in bed ever since the birth of the new princess.

Jane looked up at her stepdaughter and let a thin smile slip through her façade.

"I feel fine, Lady Mary. I do not have the need to ask you the same question, since I can see that you are glowing."

Mary blushed, the rose tints in her cheeks deepened which made her look even lovelier. Her chestnut hair, delicate features and grey eyes had made her one of the loveliest ladies of the court. Even though she was not legitimate in the eyes of the King, she was his daughter and she was not getting any younger. She was already 21 and she was still without a husband and even a suitor.

Suddenly Jane was overcome with guilt.

"I wish to be alone with Lady Mary. Leave us," she announced. Her ladies left with their sowings, the last lady to leave the room closed the door after her.

Jane then surprised Mary by taking her hand and starting to cry. The tears in her eyes slowly started to slid down her pale cheeks. She made no effort to wipe them away, instead she pressed Mary's hand even harder.

"Princess Mary, how much you must hate me," she said with her voice breaking. "I am not worthy to be Queen, your mother was the rightful Queen. She always was."

No one spoke for several minutes.

Jane smiled again and shook her head.

"But voilà! I am the Queen, of course I am happy."

Mary cast one look around to see if anyone was near. When she saw the situation as safe, she looked at Jane and said uneasily, "You should not say words like those ever again, Your Highness."

"Why not?" Jane asked anxiously.

"Since _her_ death, everything French is seen as something appalling", Mary replied.

Jane was quiet for a moment then she looked at Mary again. "Of course I am aware of that, I have forced everyone not to wear anything French!" The French fashions that Anne Boleyn had introduced had been banned by Jane, conservative clothes were welcomed instead. She had done everything to make life easier for Henry.

"But you should ..." Mary started to say but was then interrupted by Jane.

"Can you go and get me a drink?" Jane smiled and started wiping away her tears.

"Yes, Your Highness", Mary said sweetly and walked away. Inside she was fuming with anger. She was the King's eldest daughter! She was not a servant and she did not want to be treated as one. But she knew that she had to smile and try to be humble to everyone. What she did in the eyes of the people, would never be forgotten and she had to be seen as forgiving, gracious and good. If she was to be Queen one day.

When Mary came back and gave Jane her drink, a smile passed between them.

* * *

**8****th**** November 1537**

Lady Jane Rochford sat alone with Queen Jane in the Queen's rooms. Queen Jane had earlier dismissed the other ladies and they had left. They did not speak for several minutes. The Queen had been looking at Lady Jane the entire time that they had been alone together.

Lady Jane quickly grew uncomfortable with the Queen staring at her. She knew that no one could call her beautiful and speak the truth. She had mousy hair and a face that no one remembered. When her husband had been alive he had called her Plain Jane, it was one of his many jokes he had come up with during their marriage, which was what she had always been to him. A joke.

So she did not understand why the Queen stared at her, but she did not have the courage to ask her why she was looking at her.

Was she going to ask her why she had betrayed her husband and sister-in-law? The question that no one dared to ask, maybe because they did not want her to get angry or maybe because they just did not want to hear the answer. Instead they just choise to ignore hear.

But Lady Jane knew the answer. She grabbed her chance at revenge when she was being questioned by Cromwell, along with the other ladies-in-waiting. She chose to cooperate with Cromwell, without even thinking of it as a betrayal against her Queen and husband. Anne had not behaved in a fair manner against Katherine of Aragon, the woman who had been the King's legal wife, so why should she behave better towards her? And with her husband George, well if she chose to get even after years of humiliation, who could deny her that?

It was a matter of fairness.

Queen Jane then broke the silence by saying "I want to thank you for saying what you said to me during the birth of my Isabel. I do not know what would have happened if you had not said that."

Then they spent the whole afternoon just sitting together and talking about things they just felt like talking about. After that day Lady Jane knew that she would do anything to please the Queen. _Anything._

* * *

**12****th**** Nov****ember 1537**

Since the christening, Henry had come every night to the bed he shared with Jane. He never stayed for long, he did his duties as a husband and a King, and then he left. There were rumors soaring around that he had taken a new mistress, the first after he had married Jane.

After Henry had left, Jane laid in their bed with her cheek against her knees. It was something she always did when she was sad and felt like she was all alone. She felt like an infant waiting for the loving stroke from a parent. Every infant was taken care of when they were born, since they were new to the world and needed love. Jane often thought of herself as an infant, she still needed the love that had she had been refused by her husband since the birth of their daughter.

"I am the Queen", she said to no one but herself, "and I do not have more happiness in my life then the lowest person in the world".

She slowly got up from the bed and crossed the room to sit in the chair that was before the big mirror. She stared at her reflection. She saw a woman with porcelain skin, bright blue eyes and long, fair hair.

She did not have dark luscious hair, olive skin or dark eyes. She was not the woman that she knew Henry secretly wanted her to be.

_She was not Anne Boleyn._

After hours of staring at her reflection, she dried her tears, sighed one last time and then climbed into bed again. She closed her eyes and embraced herself. She imagined the arms to be the arms of the man that was and always had been the love of her life.

_James…_

She drifted off to sleep and dreamt of the life she would have had if Henry had not fallen in love with her that cold February-day in 1536.

She would have been married to her rightful husband, a man that she had chosen herself. But most of all, she would have been _happy_.


	3. Chapter 3 Love is dead

**Author's note:** Here's the second chapter, finally! Thanks for all the reviews.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything that is presented in this story, only my own imagination.

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Love is dead**

* * *

**7th January 1538**

Jane caressed the fair, silky soft hair on her daughter's head. She kissed the smooth cheeks and breathed in the lovely smell of a child, amazed she watched the small hands, the perfect fingers, the wriggling body that she refused to bind.

To Jane, Isabel was a wonder, a miracle that gave her life a meaning that she had never experienced before. Through the birth of her daughter, she had discovered some of life's many miracles. A new little creature had through her come to life and it was her responsibility to guide her daughter through the journey that life was.

The fact that Henry had become the father of a healthy child had boosted his confidence. He always wanted to have new people at court so that he could introduce his daughter to them. Each time that Henry touched Isabel, each time that he took her in his arms and carried her around, Jane became frightened.

When Henry was home, Jane never parted from Isabel and she felt relieved when he left.

To Jane Isabel was the centre of the universe, the sun and the meaning of life. She had filled the black hole that she had in her heart with light and joy.

Mary saw all of this. She saw with growing worry how Jane with body and soul enjoyed motherhood. Jane's wish had become true, God had listened. But Mary could not help the fact that she was worried. She knew that something awful was going to happen.

But what?

* * *

**28th January 1538**

Jane was awoken from her thoughts by Isabel's cries of hunger. She lifted her from the cradle and covered her face with kisses. The nurse came into the room, the glowing Joan. Joan was married to one of the cooks and like Jane a mother. She laid Isabel by her swelling breasts while a jealous Jane looked on.

She wanted nothing else but to breastfeed her own child but everyone had objected. A lady did not breastfeed.

One of Jane's ladies-in-waiting came running through the door. Since she had a hectic blush on her cheeks, Jane understood that something had happened.

"What is it, Lady Sarah?"

"The King has just arrived with some new friends. He requests that you come immediately and wish him welcome."

The sleazy and corny jokes hailed across the table. Henry's friends boasted and gave descriptions of the best brothels in London.

Jane wanted the evening to end.

Henry gave a toast to his daughter and then started boasting of her bright future. A future where father and daughter would walk side by side. Fear grew inside of Jane. It paralyzed her, it stopped her from moving, from talking. Every breath was a torment.

She was the nurse walking in, carrying Isabel. She was the beloved little face, the clear innocent eyes, the rosy cheeks and the love to the child filled her heart. She was Henry take Isabel into his arms, proud he walked around the table to show her up to his friends, who dutifully said that they admired her. She was how Henry lifted Isabel over his head, how he threw her high up in the air and then caught her again. She saw how Henry tripped, how he missed to catch Isabel.

She heard the sound that would haunt her throughout her life. The sound when a little baby's head was crushed against the merciless stone floor.

She tried to rise, tried to reach over to her daughter, tried to scream, but it was all in vain. She just sunk and sunk deeper into the darkness that told her that she had lost her daughter.

She had lost the one thing that had given her life any meaning.

* * *

**7th February 1538**

Henry was not satisfied with his wife. She was not the obedient wife that he wanted her to be. She was a free spirit and that scared him. He could not beat her, since there was a chance that she was with child again.

* * *

**14****th**** February 1538**

Jane was not allowed to leave her chambers. The door was locked and only Henry had the key. The servants left good and water outside the door.

Jane lay in her bed, in the room that was her prison. Two months had gone since the death of Isabel. Two months filled so much pain and humiliation that it was a surprise that she was still alive.

Each night he lay with her and each night she cried when he did. She closed her eyes when he started thrusting into her. She knew that Henry never would be able to break her. He had killed their child, but Jane had survived.

Henry could hurt her body (and so he often did), but not her soul. Nothing he did could hurt her. Each time that he came through the door to torment her she left her body, all that was left to him was a soulless shell without thoughts or feelings.

When Henry had left the room she returned to her aching body, to the pain and the loneliness. She clasped her hands around her stomach and she felt it right away. Her unborn child was sleeping inside her womb.

She knew it.


End file.
